Black Sun
by Morgause1
Summary: Mairon, still Aulë's Maia, gets a reward for a job well done. Sort of Angbang, I suppose.


Melkor listened with satisfaction to the news Mairon brought him. It was more than what he told him last time. The information was valuable indeed, probably requiring quite a bit of work and secrecy on Aulë's errant Maia's side. He looked at the Maia, heavily cloaked and cowled, either against the cold or in fear of being discovered. He was still standing at a respectable distance from the Vala, yet closer than he used to on their previous encounters. Melkor was pleased: his hold on him must be growing stronger.

"You've done well," he said at last. "You deserve a reward."

"A reward?" the thought was new to Mairon. He never got any rewards for the work he did.

"Yes." The Vala answered, quite amused. "What would you request of me?"

Mairon, who was always so sure of himself, suddenly faltered. He knew exactly what he wanted, what caused the sharp pang of yearning as he watched molten metal take shape and sparks fly from underneath his hammer. But the core of his longing, nameless and ancient, was beyond what could be put into words in the physical plane. His fiery soul sighed.

But surely HE would understand, wouldn't he? He must; Mairon heard his Song, all those eons ago. It still rang true in the Vala's footsteps, as clear and as powerful as before.

"May I… may I touch you?" he stammered at last. "Just a fleeting touch, no more."

A blast of cold wind suddenly tossed his cloak about him. For one terrible moment Mairon thought he angered the Vala and cursed his own stupidity, but then Melkor just smiled and nodded.

Mairon approached and hesitantly touched his fingers to one large, cool hand. He felt a jolt at the contact, like lightning surging straight into him, and for a second his soul was aglow. Sparks coursed close under his skin, some of them spilling out of his hands and hair. He withdrew his hand immediately, still feeling it tingle, and pressed it to his chest.

"Thank you…"

The Vala looked him up and down. "Nice. But this isn't what you wanted, is it?"

Mairon stared at him, eyes wide and full of wonder. Was he really offering him more? A veil of darkness was slowly wrapping itself around them, isolating them from any possible prying eyes. Mairon felt more confident. He lifted his hands and the Vala bent down to allow him access.

He caressed his marble-like face, marveling at the cold beauty of it: sharp cheekbones, cruel mouth, skin as gray as ashes. He saw his own flaming figure reflected in the Vala's pale blue eyes and shivered. He brushed burning fingertips in the inky waves of his hair, and his fear returned. He could never have crafted anything nigh this perfect. Not even Aulë could. This truly was Eru's favorite son.

"You disappoint me, Mairon. I thought you braver than this." the Vala murmured, standing up to full, towering height. "Fortunately for you, I know what it is that you want." He spread his arms wide and in a flash his physical form was gone.

Mairon found himself face to face with the black sun that shattered space around them, an all-encompassing, churning presence that distorted Mairon's senses and sent his blood boiling and freezing at the same time. Tongues of dark flame swirled around Mairon, screaming the Vala's Song. It was pulsating, maddening, loud enough to make him reel with pain. But when the Vala spoke, his voice was soft.

"Come to me."

Mewling in fear and need, Mairon cast his own corporeal body aside and lunged straight at him.

Warmth.

Blessed, divine warmth.

All his pain and loneliness were forgotten, melted away by the terrible flames that eased and sheltered him from frost within and without. He felt his own soul growing brighter and the flames coaxed it, feeding him power. He was confused for a moment – he was never allowed to burn this bright in Almaren. But now his swirling soul expanded more and more, singing an exulting song of fire, and the Vala seemed to rejoice in it. Drunk on heat and splendor, he lost all inhibition and let go.

When he came back to his senses, he was lying in the Vala's arms, incarnate again. The feeling in his body was strange: he was flustered and panting and there was a dull ache deep inside him, needing release of some sort. He never experienced anything like this before, although he heard others tell of it. He looked at Melkor, eyes hooded and breath steaming in the frigid air, but the Vala just released him from his embrace.

"I trust that you've been fully compensated?" That was not a question.

Mairon had to nod. Then he heard Aulë calling for him.

"Are you going to do as your Lord commands?" Melkor asked, a playful smirk curling one side of his mouth.

Mairon paused for a second.

"Yes," he answered, but remained standing. The summons went away and came again, louder this time.

"Well?"

"You haven't yet stated your command, my Lord." Mairon said sleekly, feeling Aulë growing farther and fainter in his soul. He had chosen.

And now Melkor truly smiled.


End file.
